The Princess of Glasgowania
by ChickWithThePurpleGuitar
Summary: Modern Day AU. All Newkirk wanted to do was give his best friend a chance to fall in love. All Deryn wanted was to meet the boy of her dreams. All Alek wanted was to not have to marry a stranger. None of them wanted what actually happened.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, guys. Here's the first chapter of my new story. I hope you like it. Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter One

Okay, before we get into all this, I just want to make something clear. I was trying to _help_ her. Okay? Don't listen to what Alek says- it's all clart anyway. But really- it was for her own good.

I had no idea it was going to all go wrong.

* * *

"You know what I don't understand?" Newkirk asked no one in particular, slamming the newspaper on the table of the Sharp family kitchen.

"Math? Science? Anything to do with girls?" his friend Deryn guessed.

Newkirk glared at her. "Besides that, I mean," he said.

Deryn laughed. "What do you not understand, then?"

"How a bunch of girls all over Europe are fighting over _this _guy."

Newkirk held up the newspaper for Deryn to see. Her mouth dropped open. "_Wow_, that guy is hot!"

Newkirk looked at the paper again. The boy in the picture had reddish-brown hair half-covering abnormally large ears. His dark green eyes looked awkwardly to the side as he half-smiled at the camera. "Really? You think _this_ guy's hot? When you're best friends with a male model like yours truly?"

Deryn took the newspaper out of Newkirk's hands and held it up in front of his face. "Much better…"

Newkirk sighed. "What do you girls _see _in that guy?"

"Everything we don't see in you," Deryn replied.

Newkirk peeked around the paper and studied his friend curiously. Deryn's short blonde hair had made him think she was a boy when they first met, and the fact that she never brushed it really didn't help her case. Her blue eyes were bright and pretty, but there was a film of sadness and anger that covered them, kind of ruining the picture.

Newkirk's gaze drifted towards the chain around Deryn's neck. That was the source of the sadness, he knew. She wore a medal on the chain, something her dad had received a few years back. Right after the accident when he died.

Newkirk was jolted out of his thoughts when Deryn snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Wha- huh?"

"Why were you staring at me?" she demanded.

Newkirk grabbed the newspaper still in her hands and stood up. "Nothing, sorry. I gotta go, I need to say goodbye to my parents before they leave for Fresno. See you here tonight?"

Deryn sighed. "Yeah, I guess. But bring me a copy of that paper, will you? I want to look at that hot guy some more."

Newkirk gave her a thumbs-up, only listening. "Yeah, got it, whatever. See ya!"

He left Deryn's house, opening the newspaper again. His plan formulated in his mind all the way home, and when he finally arrived, he realized something.

The boy in the paper had the same sadness in his eyes that Deryn did.

**A/N: Sorry the first chapter's so short, the next one's longer, I promise. I hope you liked the story so far and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's chapter two! I hope you all like it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you all make me so happy. **

**Quick note to the burnt Huxley: Bramblepool is actually my best friend in real life, so that was a very interesting review for me to receive… I'll let her know you said that, though, I'm sure she'll be very proud.**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. Please enjoy and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

* * *

Chapter Two

So, you see where I'm going with this, right? You get where I'm coming from? I was trying to do a good deed, trying to make my best friend happy. I mean, her dad just died, what was I supposed to do, right? She needed this, trust me.

Or, so I thought.

* * *

His name was Alek. He was the son of the Austrian ambassador to the United Kingdom, and his parents were having a continent-wide contest to find him a future wife.

It was Newkirk's job to make sure Deryn was that wife.

He started by gathering information. He searched the newspaper article for Alek's home address. Calling the boy like the paper suggested seemed just a wee bit too far forward. I mean, if some random girl called you and said "Marry me!" would _you _say yes? Exactly.

When he finally had everything he needed, Newkirk sat down and prepared to execute his plan.

_Dear Alek, _he wrote.

_My name is Jaspert Sharp._

* * *

Aleksandar von Hohenberg was slowly getting very sick of girls.

"I don't think you understand, son," his father said to him at dinner one night. "This contest is not just for your publicity's sake."

Alek averted his gaze and tried not to laugh. They all knew it was for publicity's sake. Father had even hired Alek a personal photographer from New York to capture the experience.

Alek's mother sitting next to him put a hand on his arm. "I know it's hard to believe, dear. But by offering young women all over Europe your hand in marriage-"

"Young, _royal_ women, of course," his father interrupted.

"Yes, dear, of course," Mother agreed. "By finding you a bride, Aleksandar, we find you a future. An empire. Do you understand?"

Alek nodded and smiled at his parents. "Yes, I understand. Thank you. May I be excused?"

Alek stood without waiting for permission and retreated to his bedroom, wanting to end the conversation.

The moment Alek entered his room, a blinding flash went off. Alek groaned, stumbling towards his bed. "Not now, Mr. Malone, please. I'm not in the mood."

After a short hesitation, the old-fashioned camera lowered to reveal the face of Eddie Malone, his personal photographer. "What's wrong, prince? You usually break something when I take a picture of you without a warning."

Alek shrugged. "I suppose I'm just not myself tonight."  
Eddie placed his camera on Alek's desk and sat facing backwards on the chair. "What's on your mind?"

"It's this contest," Alek explained. "I know how important it is to Mother and Father, but… it's just not important to _me_."

Malone frowned. "You don't love this? Girls all over the continent fighting for the chance to marry you? Most young men would envy you for that!"

Alek sighed. "I know, I know. I just… I don't want to marry a stranger."

"And who would you marry instead?" the photographer pointed out.

Alek sighed and shook his head. Eddie was right, of course. Alek had no friends, knew no girls. Who could he marry, if not a stranger?  
"Maybe… maybe I'll meet someone," Alek said softly, just barely believing it himself. "Really fall in love."

Malone laughed and started gathering up his things. "Good luck with that, prince. I'll check back on you later, okay? See how the love thing is going."  
Malone left the room, laughing. Alek angrily slammed the door behind him and plopped into his desk chair, sighing in exasperation.

A yellow envelope caught his eye. "Great," he sighed. "More fan mail."

Alek slowly ripped open the envelope, not wanting to read the letter inside, but also wanting to get it over with.

"Dear Alek," he read for the 284th time that month. "My name is Jas…pert… Sharp…" Realization hit him, along with joy and excitement. "It's from a boy!" The excitement quickly turned to disgust. "It's from a _boy?!_" A quick scan of the letter made him sigh in relief. "Oh, he has a sister." Then he groaned. "Ugh, he has a _sister_?"

It really was another piece of fan mail, another contest entry. It was the first time a girl hadn't entered herself, but it was all the same, really.

Alek sighed and leaned back in his chair to read the letter more thoroughly.

_Dear Alek, _it said.

_My name is Jaspert Sharp. I read about your contest in the paper and I thought my sister Deryn would be perfect for a contestant. Unfortunately, my sis did not agree with me. So, I decided to write you a letter myself. If you will, I'd like you to visit us here in Scotland and just get to know Deryn. I know that's not the standard procedure for this contest of yours, but I think it's the most effective way for this to work out. My mobile number is enclosed, so please call so we can work things out. Thanks._

At the bottom of the page, the letters N-E-W-K were written and then crossed out. It was signed _Jaspert Sharp._

Alek stared at the letter for a moment, unable to believe his eyes. This boy wasn't just entering his sister in the contest. He wanted Alek to _meet _her. To know her… to fall in love.

There was only one problem. As far as Alek knew, there were no princesses named Deryn Sharp.

* * *

**A/N: There's that. Hope you all liked it. Please review and chapter three will come soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you all. Most of you complained about how short the first two chapters were, but don't worry—I'm working on that. I always write my stories in my notebook before I type it up, so sometimes I don't realize how short something really is, but for this fic, each chapter in my notebook gets increasingly longer by multiples of four. The first chapter was four pages long, the second chapter was eight pages long, etc, etc. So, here's my twelve page long third chapter. I hope you like it.**

**Also, Bramblepool says hi, for those of you that care. And she thanks Rose Fowl for being her biggest fan.**

Chapter Three

So, you can see my plan wasn't exactly _easy._ I had to convince a guy who lived 1336.8 miles away to date me friend-who's-a-girl without knowing anything about her except her name. Oh, and I had to organize all of this without Deryn finding out.

You can tell it went perfectly.

"HEY, DERYN, DO YOU HAVE ANY PICTURES OF YOURSELF?!"

Deryn sighed and tore her eyes away from the picture of Alek taped to her ceiling. "WHAT?" she shouted.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY PICTURES OF YOURSELF?" Newkirk repeated, even louder.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT BARKING PICTURES FOR?!" Deryn screamed.

"UM… NO REASON. BUT D'YOU HAVE ANY?"  
Deryn groaned. It had not been her idea to let Newkirk stay with them while his parents were gone, and it was proving to be worse and worse every minute. "LOOK IN THE CABINET IN MA'S ROOM," she shouted. "THERE'S SOME PHOTO ALBUMS IN THERE!"

"OKAY! THANKS!"

Deryn sighed and lay back on her bed, staring up at Alek's picture. It had been barking difficult getting it up there on the ceiling, but it was completely worth it. She didn't even have to sit up to see his beautiful face.

Deryn closed her eyes and imagined Alek as more than just a face—as a whole body. His reddish-brown hair was neatly styled to cover his ears, his dark green eyes shined with excitement as he gave a real smile for once. He wore a black tuxedo and stood straight and tall at nearly six feet next to the altar as Deryn herself approached him, wearing a long, white wedding dress.

They stood together. The priest said a few words. Then Deryn and Alek leaned forward, their lips about to touch, when—

_CRASH!_

Deryn jumped up, jolted out of her fantasies. "NEWKIRK! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"  
"UM… NOTHING. THIS LAMP WASN'T IMPORTANT, WAS IT?"

Deryn sighed. "JUST GET RID OF IT BEFORE MA GETS HOME!"

"I CAN DO THAT!"

"Barking idiot," Deryn muttered, lying back on her bed again. "You had to go and break something, didn't you?"  
She just hoped that Alek wasn't anything like other boys. Not that she would ever know…

After Newkirk finished cleaning up the lamp shards, he opened the large photo album he'd found. Most of the pictures at the beginning were of Deryn's college brother Jaspert—apparently Deryn hadn't been kidding when she said her parents loved him more than her.

When the pictures of Deryn finally came along, Newkirk was a wee bit disappointed. In all of the photos where Deryn was anywhere close to her current age, well… she looked sad. And like a boy. And not like someone Alek would want to go out with.

Newkirk was about to give up when he found exactly what he was looking for.

The picture seemed to take place on some beach, but not one Newkirk recognized. The girl's long blonde hair was pulled back by a pair of aviator goggles. Her blue eyes sparkled as she beamed with a sort of joy and excitement he hadn't seen in Deryn since her dad died.

In short, she looked beautiful.

Newkirk grabbed the photo and ran downstairs, bursting into Deryn's bedroom. "Hey, Der, when was this picture tak—Deryn? What's wrong?"

Deryn was lying on her bed, staring at something on her ceiling. She was clutching the medal around her neck, and even from across the room, Newkirk could see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

Deryn quickly sat up, wiping her tears away. "Nothing, I'm fine. What do you want?"

In normal circumstances, Newkirk wouldn't have given up so easily. But Deryn was sad—that was obvious—and Newkirk's plan was almost ready. It would fix whatever was wrong—he just knew it.

"When was this picture taken?" he asked, showing it to her.

Deryn frowned, taking the photo from him. "Where'd you find this?"

"In a photo album, upstairs," Newkirk explained, grinning proudly.

Deryn smiled sadly. "That's my ma, when she was younger. Those goggles were my da's."

Newkirk's smile disappeared. "Oh. Sorry, Der. I can just—"

"No, it's fine," Deryn said tiredly. "Why did you want it, though?"

Newkirk sighed. "No reason. It wouldn't have worked anyway. If only this were you…"

Deryn shrugged. "Looks enough like me, doesn't it? Wouldn't make any difference to someone who didn't know me."

Newkirk grinned as he realized she was right. If he sent that picture to Alek, saying it was Deryn, Alek would have no idea it wasn't. And when he actually met Deryn… well, Newkirk would figure that out later.

"Thanks, Der, I know what to do now," he said excitedly. "But, uh… are you really okay?"

Deryn toyed with her medal, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. "Aye, I'm fine."

"No… you know, dreams?" Newkirk made sure.

"Not this time," Deryn assured him. "But thanks."

Newkirk nodded and left the room, photo in hand. She'd be fine. His only concern now was getting Alek to make sure of that.

Alek sighed happily and stared at the picture of Deryn taped to his ceiling. She really was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. She'd be perfect to marry, if only…

Alek's cell phone rang, disturbing his thoughts. He opened it and pressed the talk button. "_Ja? Wer ist das?"_

"Um… hey," the voice on the other end replied awkwardly in English. "It's, uh… _Jaspert. _Right… Jaspert."

Alek sat up. "Oh, yes, of course. Hello, Mr. Sharp. I received the photograph you sent me. Your sister… well, I must say, she _is _beautiful."

"Sister? What do you—oh, you mean Deryn! Right, aye, she is that."  
Alek frowned. "Is everything all right, Mr. Sharp? You sound a bit nervous."

"Oh, aye, it's fine. Just making sure Deryn doesn't overhear any of this. Your visit's gonna be a surprise. Well, that is… I mean, you are coming, aren't you?"

Alek sighed. "You don't know how much I'd love to, Mr. Sharp, really…"

"But…?" Jaspert prompted.

"But… well, Mr. Sharp, I don't think you read my contest's rules very carefully. You see… well, the point was for me to marry royalty. So I could rule an empire. I can't exactly do that with your sister, can I?"  
"Of—of course you can!" Jaspert protested. "I must've forgotten to tell you this, but, uh… well, Deryn is the… princess… of Glasgow…ania…"

"Glasgowania?" Alek repeated, frowning. "I've never heard of that country…"  
"Aye, it's not very well-known," Jaspert explained. "It's a… city-state, in Scotland. Very few people have heard of it, or its royal family. But it's real," he added hastily. "And don't look it up or anything, you, uh… won't find it… anywhere…"

Alek nodded slowly, slightly confused. "I see… well, thank you for telling me that, Mr. Sharp. It makes a big difference. I must speak to my parents, of course, but I'm sure they'll be fine with me going to visit your… city-state."  
"Aye, you do that. Hopefully, I'll see you soon. Bye." Jaspert hung up.

Alek sighed and lay back on his bed, staring at the picture taped to the ceiling. She looked like a princess. Her long blonde hair flowed gracefully down her back and the aviator goggles she wore sat on her head as perfectly as a crown.

Deryn Sharp was beautiful, and Alek wanted nothing more than to marry her.

He just hoped his parents would let him have the chance.

**A/N: So, there's that. Please review. I'll update soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey peoples. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. This chapter is dedicated to my friend Cat cause she yelled at me to update while I was tutoring a fifth grader. And then she read this chapter in my notebook. So anyway, thank Cat for this amazingness. Please enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing that's in this chapter, anyway. I'm writing a book, so soon I will own some things. **

* * *

Chapter Four

As great as things seem to be going, this was actually when everything started going downhill. I thought my plan was going perfectly—and at first glance, it was. Everything was going to plan, as far as I could tell.

But, of course, I never expected what actually happened.

* * *

"I'D LIKE TO BE. UNDER THE SEA. IN AN OCTOPUS'S GARDEN. IN THE SHADE."

Newkirk sang at the top of his lungs, his iPod's volume cranked to the very top.

"WE WOULD BE WARM. AAH AH. BELOW THE STORM. AAH AH. IN OUR OCTOPUS'S GARDEN. IN A CAVE. LA LA LA LA LA LA LA. ALL MY FRIENDS WILL COME AND SEE. AN OCTOPUS'S GARDEN WITH M—"

Newkirk stopped short when his music suddenly turned off. He spun around and frowned at Deryn standing in the doorway, holding the plug to his iPod speaker.

"What was that for?" Newkirk whined. "I was just about to sing 'E'."

Deryn rolled her eyes. "You were too loud. And, anyway, I… I need to talk to you."

Newkirk frowned, noticing the tears in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Deryn hesitated, then shook her head. "It's the dreams. I keep seeing him… it…" She fell to her knees, sobbing.

Newkirk knelt in front of her, clenching his fists angrily. This hadn't happened in months. He'd hoped it wouldn't ever happen again.

"Deryn, it's okay," he whispered soothingly. "It's over, it happened, it's in the past now. Stop going into the past."

"My child," Deryn rasped, her voice deeper than usual. "My poor child, left all alone."

Newkirk sighed. "She's not alone. She'll never be alone," he whispered, more to himself than to his friend. "I promise you—your daughter will never be alone."

Deryn clawed at his chest as if trying to escape a small space. "Jump," she cried. "My child! Jump!"

Newkirk held her hands in his so she wouldn't claw his shirt open. For several minutes, he whispered soothing words to her as she sobbed. Eventually, she fell silent and slumped forward against him, unconscious.

Newkirk sighed as he lifted her off the floor, carrying her bridal style. "You see?" he whispered. "Never alone."

* * *

Alek really hated it when his parents went on business trips, because they were a lot easier to talk to than the people left in charge in their absence.

Usually, when Alek's parents were gone, their butler Cedric was in charge. Cedric was a very proper man. He'd worked for Alek's father for years and had a little too much respect for the family's royal blood. Cedric despised Alek's mother and therefore hated Alek even more.

Luckily for Alek, however, Cedric was visiting his sister-in-law in Canada and wouldn't be back for another three weeks.

So, usually when Cedric wasn't there, Alek's parents left the cook, Mrs. Hessenheffer, in charge. Mrs. Hessenheffer was a plump woman who took way much joy in pinching Alek's cheeks. Fortunately, she was gone as well because her two bratty children Gunther and Tinka had the measles. Alek didn't exactly feel sorry for them.

Then, that left Volger. He was an old friend of Alek's father's, as well as Alek's attorney. He was tall and intimidating and sported a mustache so large it scared almost everyone he prosecuted into blurting out every single truth they'd ever tried to hide. Volger was hard to talk to, impossible to lie to, and wouldn't know kindness if it hit him in the face.

So, of course, it ended up being Volger whom Alek had to ask permission from so he could visit Deryn.

And, of course, Volger said no.

"But, Volger, you don't understand!" Alek protested, slamming his fists on the desk. "I _need _to meet her! She's my only chance!"

Volger glared down at him from his seat at the desk, his mustache twitching. Alek almost backed down, but something gave him courage to look his lawyer in the eye and say what he believed.

"She's giving me a chance to fall in love, Volger. Please. Let me have that chance."

Volger said nothing, staring at Alek. Then he inclined his head just a bit, telling Alek to take a seat. The boy obeyed, pulling a chair up to the desk.

"Please—" he continued, but Volger held up a hand, silencing him.

"Aleksandar, I don't think you quite understand what falling in love really means."

Alek frowned. "What do you mean? Of course I—"

Volger held up his hand again, and Alek stopped talking.

"You have to really think, Alek, about what you're going into," Volger continued. "Sometimes… sometimes when you fall in love, you end up giving up your whole childhood. You give up everything."  
Alek blinked, feeling awkward. "Volger… I don't think my predicament has anything to do with your failed relationships…"

"Not me!" Volger snapped. "I'm talking about your father!"

Alek frowned. "My… father…?"

Volger nodded. "He was real royalty, Alek. I don't think you realize that. He was in line to rule Austria, as were you. When he met your mother, I warned him. I warned him what it would mean for any children they had, but he didn't listen." The man sighed and when he spoke again, he sounded sad and tired, no longer angry like Alek was used to. "I gave him that chance to fall in love, Alek. And he gave up everything for it. Took everything away from you."

Alek just sat there for a moment, taking in everything Volger had said. "Wait… but, this isn't anything like Mother and Father. Deryn's a princess."  
Volger rubbed his face tiredly. "No, Alek, she's not. Trust me, I've been to Scotland multiple times; there is no such place as Glasgowania."

Alek was took shocked to speak at first. But… but that couldn't be! It had to be real!

But deep inside, Alek knew Volger was right. "You mean… Jaspert lied to me?"

Volger nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Alek, but yes. And… for the record, what kind of a name is Jaspert?"

Alek shrugged. "I don't know. A Scottish one?"

"And for that matter, what kind of a girl's name is Deryn?"

"I don't know! A Scottish one!" Alek repeated, his voice quivering slightly.

Volger glanced at him and sighed. "I'm sorry, Alek. I really am. If… if it helps, I can… I can allow you to meet Deryn, to at least be friends. I can give you the chance to fall in love. I just don't suggest taking it."

Alek couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Really, Volger? You mean it?! I can really meet her?"

Volger sighed. "Yes. I'm sure your parents won't mind."

Alek jumped up and hugged Volger excitedly. "Oh, thank you, Volger! Thank you!"

Alek ran out of the lawyer's office, happier than he'd ever been in his entire life.

* * *

Deryn blinked her eyes open, smiling as her gaze locked on Alek's face. Then the smile disappeared as she realized what had happened.

"Newkirk!" Deryn called, jumping out of bed and racing into the hallway. "Newkirk!"

Footsteps clattered down the stairs, Newkirk's surprised face soon appearing. "Deryn! You're awake!"

She nodded. "What happened? Did it… did I…?"

Newkirk nodded morosely. "It was a bad one. You almost ripped my shirt off."

Deryn winced. "Sorry. You know I didn't mean it."

Newkirk smiled sadly. "I know. Are you okay?"

"I think so," Deryn replied. "Before I… I thought if I just talked to you about it, I wouldn't… well, obviously not."

Newkirk nodded. "Yeah. I understand. But it's fine. As long as you're all right."

Deryn shrugged. "Thanks, by the way. It must be hard, having to see me like that."

Newkirk leaned forward against the staircase railing, watching her intensely. "I just want to understand why it happens. Why can't we tell someone?"

Deryn shook her head. "We can't. Please, Newkirk, I can't say why. We just can't. This has to be between us."

Newkirk sighed. "I know."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Newkirk shrugged. "Whatever. You should probably get back to bed. It's late, and we've got school tomorrow."

Deryn glanced at the hall clock and was surprised to see it was almost midnight. How long had she been unconscious?

"About six hours this time," Newkirk said, as if he could hear her thoughts. "I was really worried."

Deryn bit her lip nervously. "I'm really sorry. I—"

"It's not your fault," Newkirk interrupted, turning away to go back upstairs. "It's your father's."

Deryn clutched her medal as she watched him retreat to the guest room. What did he mean by that?

What _could _he mean?

* * *

Newkirk stared at the ceiling of the room he was staying in at Deryn's house. Things weren't going exactly how he'd thought they would. This incident with Deryn was more than worrying for him. What if it kept happening? What if Deryn didn't recover as easily next time? And what would happen if Alek witnessed one of these attacks? What would he think, and what would it mean for Deryn?

Newkirk's cell phone rang, making him jump. He grabbed the device and pressed the 'talk' button. "Hello?"

"Mr. Sharp! Thank goodness, I wasn't sure if you were still awake."

Newkirk frowned. "Alek? Is that you?"

"Yes. I apologize for calling so late at night, but I needed to talk to you."

Newkirk sat up, interested now. "Did you talk to your parents?"

"I just got off the phone with them," Alek reported. "I should be in Scotland by 4:00 tomorrow afternoon."

"That's perfect!" Newkirk exclaimed excitedly. "Thanks, Alek, I'll see you tomorrow."

Newkirk hung up and tossed his phone into his backpack. Then, he lay back on the bed and sighed happily, staring at the ceiling.

At least _something _was going right.

* * *

**A/N: There's that. Hope you all liked it. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

* * *

Chapter Five

At first, it seemed like things were starting to shape up. I still hadn't told Deryn about Alek coming, but I was convinced she would love the surprise.

Of course, I forgot that Deryn hates surprises.

* * *

The next morning, Newkirk came downstairs and sat across from Deryn at the kitchen table.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her softly so her mother wouldn't hear from the other room.

Deryn shrugged. "Fine. Enough to go to school, anyway."

Newkirk nodded. "I'll leave my phone on, in case you need anything."

Deryn gave him a small smile and stuffed a spoonful of potatoes in her mouth.

Newkirk turned to his own breakfast, realizing that was the only thanks he was gonna get.

* * *

Newkirk in English class when he got the message. His teacher, Mr. Taplin, was writing the homework on the board, so his back was turned. Newkirk's phone buzzed and he glanced down at the text that appeared.

_Drms. Hlp. Lckr 368._

Newkirk stuffed his phone back in his pocket and raised his hand, just as Mr. Taplin turned back around.

"Yes, Mr. Newkirk?" Taplin sighed tediously.

"May I go to the bathroom?" Newkirk asked, bouncing slightly to help his point.

Mr. Taplin sighed and motioned towards the door. Newkirk jumped up and ran out of the room, skidding around the corner. He hurried through the hallways, towards Locker 368, right outside the science lab, and a few doors down from the history room. When he got there, he saw Deryn sitting on the ground in front of the lockers, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Deryn?!" Newkirk fell to his knees in front of her. "What happened? Are you all right?"

Deryn's hands were trembling as she clenched her fists defiantly. "Mr. Rigby was talking about the RAF in History. He… he mentioned my da."

Newkirk took her hands in his, nodding in understanding. Everyone around Glasgow knew about Deryn's da. Artemis Sharp was a hero in the eyes of Glasgow. He'd served in the Royal Air Force for years and was only retired for a couple months when he died.

"I kept seeing him," Deryn whispered. "Every time Rigby said his name, I had these flashes of memory. Da in his goggles, up in Old Bessie, the fire slowly taking him away from me, right before the plane crashed."

Deryn was shaking uncontrollably now, tears streaming down her face. Newkirk wiped away her tears with his thumb, frowning at her in concern. "Your temperature's rising," he whispered. "Look at me, Deryn. Really look at me. Don't see the fire that night, just see my face."

Deryn looked up at him with glazed eyes. "It was burning, smoke everywhere," she rasped in that strange voice. "I had to save my child."

Newkirk sighed in exasperation and clenched his fists, wanting to slap her. "And you did. I told you—you _did _save her. So stop going on about it!"

Newkirk looked around, realizing he'd gotten considerably louder. Luckily, no one seemed to have heard him. He turned back to Deryn, speaking more quietly. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. She was practically dead weight in his arms, but he managed to stand her up.

"Shouldn't you be in class, Mr. Newkirk?"

Newkirk jumped, dropping Deryn as he spun around. Her head slammed against the locker with a loud crack. She started to cry out in pain, but Newkirk pressed his hand over her mouth, silencing her.

"Mr. Newkirk, what is going on here?"

Dr. Barlow, the biology teacher, studied Newkirk with her cold gaze.

"Well… as you can see, Doctor," Newkirk began awkwardly. "I… am pressing Deryn here against this locker."

Dr. Barlow peered around Newkirk to see Deryn. "Is there a reason _why _you're pressing Miss Sharp against a locker, Mr. Newkirk?"

"No, no reason," Newkirk replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You know, just kinda… felt like it… she likes it, though," he added hastily. "In case… that… helps… um, yeah, so, she's okay with… this…"

Dr. Barlow sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she said, "Let go of her, Mr. Newkirk."

"Yes, ma'am." Newkirk quickly removed his hand from Deryn's face. She slid down the wall of lockers, slumping onto the ground.

Dr. Barlow frowned. "Are you all right, Miss Sharp?"

"Oh, she's fine," Newkirk was quick to assure her. "She's just practicing… her impersonation… of a… rock…."

Dr. Barlow gave him a tolerant look, then knelt down in front of Deryn and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Why, she's burning up!" the woman exclaimed. "Mr. Newkirk, what happened here? Why were you two not in class?"

Newkirk squirmed uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to betray his friend, but Dr. Barlow only wanted to help her. That was worth telling Deryn's secret, wasn't it?

"It's a long story, Doctor," Newkirk finally said. "I think we should get Deryn to the nurse before I try to explain."

* * *

Alek drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat in the family limousine, thoroughly bored. "Are we there yet?" he complained in German.

"Not yet, young master," his chauffeur, Master Klopp, replied from the driver's seat. "We just crossed into Spain. We should reach Portugal in a few hours."

Alek nodded. "I should call Jaspert and let him know how long we'll be."

"He might be in school, Aleksandar," Volger warned him. "Remember, your friend Jaspert isn't royalty as you thought."

Alek sighed. "Right. I'll call later then. When he's home."

Volger patted his shoulder sympathetically, but didn't say anything.

"Gas is running low," Klopp muttered, then called into the back of the limo, "Bauer, Hoffman, time for a pitstop!"

"Yes, sir!"

The car stopped. Two men climbed over Alek from the back and got out of the car as fast as they could. Alek managed an amused smile at the men as Klopp threw orders at them, and they filled the car with gasoline in record time.

Klopp's dream was to drive a racecar in a real competition and he practiced wherever he went. He always drove exactly four kilometers above the speed limit so he'd be faster than his opponents. He took his pitcrew, Bauer and Hoffman, on every roadtrip farther than the grocery store down the street. They were the best mechanics Austria had to offer, and the fastest too.

But after 20 minutes had passed, Klopp and his crew hadn't yet returned to the car. Alek peered out the window and saw Bauer's legs sticking out from under the car, Klopp and Hoffman watching with concern.

"Can I go see what's wrong?" Alek asked Volger.

The man nodded silently. Alek unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

Klopp looked up. "Young master! Are you all right?"

Alek nodded. "I just wanted to know what was going on out here."

Klopp's face fell. "Something's wrong with the car, young master. The new gasoline won't go in. We can't keep driving without it getting fixed."

Bauer slid out from under the vehicle, his face black with dirt. "No luck, sir," he reported. "I'm going to need more supplies to get anything done."

Klopp sighed. "I'm sorry, young master. We might be here awhile."

"It's fine, Klopp," Alek assured him. "Do what you need to do to get us moving again. Volger and I can go into town and get supplies if you like. I speak enough Spanish to get what we need."

Klopp grinned excitedly. "Oh, that'd be wonderful! I'll make you a list of supplies. Thank you, young master!"

* * *

**(A/N: Lots of Spanish coming up. Just so you know, Alek's lines came from Google Translate, which is often wrong (to show that Alek's Spanish really isn't that great) and the man's lines came from my Spanish teacher. Also, any actual Spanish speakers out there, please ignore my punctuation fails. My computer hates me.)**

_ "Disculpe, señor. Necesito su ayuda." _**(Translation: Excuse me, sir. I need your help.)**

The old mechanic looked up from the car he was working on and frowned at Alek. _"Tú eres el chico de Austria, verdad?" _**(Translation: You're the boy from Austria, right?)**

Alek nodded. "Sí, señor. _Porqué? Ha oído hablar de mí?" _**(Translation: Yes, sir. Why? Have you heard of me?)**

The man's eyes narrowed. _"Mi hija entro en su concurso. Tú la rechazaste." _**(My daughter entered that contest of yours. You turned her down.)**

Alek thought quickly. He needed this man to trust him if he was ever going to see Deryn. _"Realmente… bueno, eso debe haber sido un error… Me ponder en contacto con usted acerca de los resultados reales." _**(Really… well, that must have been a mistake… I'll get back to you on the actual results.)**

The man looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then smiled. _"Gracias, chico. No puedo esperar." _**(Thank you, boy. I can't wait.)**

Alek was quick to change the subject. _"Necesito su ayuda, señor. Necesito algunos suministros."_**(I need your help, sir. I need some supplies.)**

_"Qué tipo de provisiones necesita un principe? Tornillos? Gelatina para el cabello?" _**(What kind of supplies would a prince need? Bolts? Screws? Hair gel?)**

Alek decided not to point out that he was an ambassador's son, not a prince, not to mention the fact that he didn't use hair gel. He wasn't a hundred percent sure he'd understood the man correctly, though, so he kept quiet on that.

Alek took out the list Klopp had made him and studied it for a moment. The supplies were written in German, though, of course, and Alek now had to translate them into Spanish. Unfortunately, Spanish was one of the few languages Alek was not completely fluent in. As he looked at the list, the words swam through his head in English, French, Italian—even Latin! But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see the words in Spanish.

Alek finally gave up in frustration. _"Hablas italiano?" _he asked the man exasperatedly. **(Do you speak Italian?)**

His face lit up excitedly. _"Sí! Sí!" _**(It'd be sad if you didn't know what that means, but just in case, it means Yes! Yes!)**

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere!" Alek exclaimed, then started rambling off a list of supplies in Italian.

After he'd gotten everything he needed, Alek met Volger outside to carry the supplies to the car.

"How did it go?" the lawyer asked.

Alek sighed. "I really need to learn Spanish."

* * *

"It started about a year about her dad died," Newkirk began. He was sitting in Dr. Barlow's office, close enough to Dr. Busk's clinic that he'd know if Deryn needed any help. "Right after the accident, she was silent for months. Wouldn't say a word. By the time she started talking again, it was very little, and usually only to me or her brother. Then one day, I went with her down to the creek by her house."

Newkirk took a deep breath before continuing. "She told me about all the times she'd gone down there with her da. And then…"

"Then…?" Dr. Barlow prompted, looking intrigued.

Newkirk sighed. "She started telling me about the day he died, but… it wasn't her talking…"

"What do you mean?" the doctor asked.

"It wasn't her voice," Newkirk explained. "It was deep and raspy and oddly familiar, but it definitely wasn't her."

Newkirk hesitated again, collecting his thoughts. "She started shouting about her child, telling someone to jump…"

"Deryn has a child?" Dr. Barlow gasped, sounding disgusted. "Are you the—the father?"

"No!" Newkirk protested. "She was only eleven when this happened, if you recall! Anyway, I thought it was her child too at first, but then I realized. I figured she _is _the child. She was talking as if she were her father."

Dr. Barlow sat back in her desk chair thoughtfully. "I'm sure there's more to this story, Mr. Newkirk. But I think I've heard enough. Take Miss Sharp home to rest, and I'll speak with you tomorrow morning."

Newkirk nodded his thanks and stood to go.

* * *

By the time Newkirk got Deryn to his car, he was already sweating. Deryn had been pretty much dead on her feet, and it didn't help that she was practically burning up. Once he had her buckled into the passenger seat, he started the car and set off for Deryn's house.

Half an hour later, Newkirk stumbled into the Sharps' front hall, dragging Deryn behind him. He threw their backpacks into the kitchen and helped Deryn into a chair. "How are you feeling, Der?"

She groaned. "It's so hot. It's like that night all over again, but this time, I can't escape the fire."

Newkirk grabbed a paper towel from the kitchen and soaked it with cold water. He brought it to Deryn and placed it on her forehead. "Better?"

"Much," she said thankfully.

Newkirk gave her a small smile. "Sorry about this. I should've kept you home in the first place. You were already stressed out from what happened yesterday. I'm really sorry."

"It's fine," Deryn assured him.

"I'll bring your stuff upstairs," Newkirk offered. "You stay here and rest."

Deryn nodded her thanks and closed her eyes, shaking slightly.

Newkirk retrieved her backpack and brought it upstairs to Deryn's bedroom. As he placed her bag by her desk, his gaze fell on the picture of Alek taped to her ceiling. A smile lit up his face. Alek would be here in just a few hours.

If he didn't take Deryn's mind off her father's death, Newkirk didn't know what would.

* * *

Deryn's eyes snapped open when she heard music playing.

_"Dankeschon," _a female voice sang. _"Ooh, dankeschon."_

Deryn frowned. It was Newkirk's favorite song, and the only reason he'd scraped by with a C+ in German class last year. But what was it doing playing in her house?

Deryn took the towel off her head and followed the noise. She ended up finding the music playing from Newkirk's phone, which was still in his backpack in the kitchen. Deryn pressed the talk button and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Um… is this Jaspert?" the boy on the other end asked, his strange accent making him slightly hard to understand.

"No… this is Deryn…" Why would someone looking for Jaspert have Newkirk's number?

"Deryn? Really? Oh, I can't believe I'm talking to you! This is Alek!"

Deryn was shocked into silence. "A-Alek?"

"Yes! I was just calling to let Jaspert know that—"

Deryn put a hand over the phone and called upstairs, "NEWKIRK! WHY ARE YOU GETTING A CALL FROM THE HOT GUY ON MY CEILING?"

Through the phone, Alek asked excitedly, "I'm on your ceiling? You're on _my _ceiling!"

Deryn yelped and threw the phone at the wall, hearing it smash.

"What was that?" Newkirk called.

Deryn wasn't able to answer. She was still in shock. She'd talked to Alek.

* * *

**A/N: There's that. I hope you liked it. Please review!**


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